25 lutego 2016
The Terrain
It was always painful to remember the suicide
of a painter,
who was drawing the landscape
of hunger.
Polishing his art of pretention.
The time whistled past his window
without punctuation.
The terrain was tough, deepened by
requiem, the tears dried up
on the cheeks of chastity.
Script without drum and hue
of glowing eyes,
cracked lips
of us and our instruments of tragedy.
2 sierpnia 2025
dobrosław77
2 sierpnia 2025
sam53
1 sierpnia 2025
sam53
1 sierpnia 2025
Yaro
31 lipca 2025
Arsis
31 lipca 2025
absynt
31 lipca 2025
absynt
30 lipca 2025
sam53
30 lipca 2025
absynt
30 lipca 2025
sam53